The Case of the Stained Stilettos

by Smith, Melissa J. L

  Excusing herself briefly as the interview with the director is winding down, Lucienne steps outside to see. Mercy headed in the door.

  “Hey Sis. You and Frank ready for lunch?” she asks.

  “Almost but not quite. Why don’t you wait in the surveillance room?” Lucienne asks. “We’re running a little late, but we won’t be long.”

  Lucienne opens the door to the surveillance room and says, “Everyone, meet my sister, Mercy. Can you keep her entertained until we finish a couple of interviews? We’re going to after.”

  The two officers watching the equipment wave Mercy in. She smiles and sits down, then pretends to focus on her phone. “I hope you don’t mind,” Mercy says to the officers. “I’m just going to return emails while I wait.” The officers indicate that it is no problem.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Mercy sees Blaine enter the interrogation room. She takes notes on her phone as Blaine recounts his version of the evening of the party and answers some other questions. Nothing I haven’t heard already, she thinks. Maybe Dana’s right. Maybe he hasn’t had an original thought since he hit his midlife crisis.

  Commotion starts to build outside on the sidewalk as a few looky-loos try to get near enough to the door for an autograph or selfie with the Blaine Jeffries.

  Mercy checks the outdoor cameras on the bank of monitors and sees Beth Luker standing near the door, adjusting her neckline lower and skirt higher, as she awaits Blaine’s exit. Mercy notices that the press is beginning to show up for the press conference that was announced.

  Beth digs around in one pocket for lipstick, and not finding it, locates it in another pocket under her keys. Not wanting to wrinkle her outfit or be seen digging around in yet another pocket in front of the cameras, Beth puts her lipstick on without benefit of a mirror.

  Halfway through applying her lipstick, Beth is bumped by someone in the growing group of autograph-seekers. She does not realize that the lipstick has given her a “clown smile,” and nobody bothers to tell her, although there are a few giggles nearby.

  News trucks arrive for the press conference, and their camerapersons shoot B-roll of the crowd of autograph-seekers before entering the building. A lone LAPD rookie is trying to disperse the fans who are trying to sneak inside with the reporters, unsuccessfully.

  Blaine emerges from the building and stops to sign a few autographs before Beth attaches herself to his arm. Putting on a show like she and Blaine are the last of the red-hot lovers, Blaine hardly can contain his laughter at her makeup malfunction.

  The rookie officer, Teresita Lourdes, finally breaks through the crowd.

  “Is Beth Luker in this crowd? You are wanted in Interrogation,” Officer Lourdes yells.

  Beth reluctantly lets go of Blaine and raises her hand. The officer directs Beth toward the building.

  Lucienne spots Beth checking in with the desk sergeant and waves her toward the interrogation room, where Frank does a double-take.

  “Something wrong?” Beth asks.

  “No, not a thing,” Frank says, offering her a seat. Lucienne smiles and shakes her head.

  As the interview gets underway, Beth downplays her own flirting with Blaine at the party, telling Lucienne and Frank about Dana’s “drunken outbursts” and “that witch Susana’s intentions” toward Blaine, and insisting that she had been much too busy working, helping her beloved Sal make the party a success. So far, there are no tears for Sal.

  Frank sort of broaches the lipstick issue, just out of curiosity, but does it in the guise of interrogation.

  “I see you’re not wearing your Bella Palermo uniform. Are you working somewhere else today? A rodeo, perhaps?” asks Frank, thinking about a rodeo clown.

  “Rodeo? What?” asks Beth, confused.

  Lucienne bails Frank out. “What my partner means is that you’re wearing a lovely outfit today instead of your uniform. Rodeo Drive?”

  Beth looks pleased that Frank thinks she shops on Rodeo Drive. “Not Rodeo. Burbank Mall, but thank you for the compliment.” Frank bites his lip to keep from smiling.

  Beth adjusts her neckline to be a bit lower in Frank’s direction, flirting.

  Lucienne shoots Frank a look that tells him, “Okay, she’s a flirt with all handsome men, not just those who can help her career.”

  “We haven’t done any catering since Sal … you know. It’s just too hard to think about it. Sal didn’t have any family and no will, so everything is just in limbo,” Beth continues.

  “I haven’t worn my work uniform since the party,” she says. “Blaine lets us use the dressing room to change and we leave our uniforms there for pickup by the laundry.”

  “I see. My condolences on the loss of your fiancé,” says Lucienne. “Did you have any further questions, Detective Lawshé?” she asks Frank.

  Beth’s ears perk up like a cat’s hearing a cat food can open. “Lawshé? Any relation to Bradford Lawshé?” she asks, scooting her chair closer to him.

  “My dad,” Frank replies with a weak smile. “No, no more questions. I think we’ve covered everything we need today.”

  Beth digs around in her pockets and pulls out a business card. She hands it to Frank in a maneuver that gives her maximum opportunity to flash her cleavage. “Here are my numbers. If you think of any other questions, or want me for anything else, call anytime.”

  As Beth rambles on, trying to keep Frank’s focus on her, the surveillance room staff shouts out funny dialogue to go with Beth’s painted teeth and smeared lipstick. Their commentary is worthy of a guest shot on the old Mystery Science Theatre 3000.

  “Why hello there, cowboy,” one of them says in a silly seductive voice, voicing Beth as she leans across the table to get closer to Frank. “I’m on my break from runnin’ around after all them horses and bulls at the rodeo. How’s about a nice big kiss?”

  Another voice in the surveillance room imitates Beth saying, “It was one of those mornings. I woke up drunk and confused my moisturizer and my hemorrhoid cream! Talk about a makeup disaster!”

  The room breaks out in laughter, and it is all Mercy can do to restrain herself from joining the jokes.

  As Beth’s interview draws to a close, Susana is making her way through the small group of autograph-seekers lingering outside. Some paparazzi have joined them, just in case anyone important enters police headquarters.

  Susana fluffs her raven hair and flirts with the cameras, giving them her best “sultry vamp” looks as she spells her name for the photographers, hoping that the footage makes it to a legitimate outlet.

  She puts her hand on the door and turns to wave one last sexy wave to what she hopes will become her fans, now that they know her name. She enters the building and finds her way to the desk sergeant to announce her arrival.

  In the surveillance room, Mercy gathers her belongings to join Lucienne and Frank when Officer Lourdes sticks her head into the interrogation room. “Detectives,” says Teresita Lourdes, “the interview that didn’t show this morning is here. Can you see her before you head out for lunch?”

  Looking at the list, Lucienne realizes that it is Mark’s fiancée, Susana Alfonso. Getting the OK from Frank, Lucienne has Teresita show the very late Ms. Alfonso into the interrogation room.

  As Beth passes Susana on her way out, Beth digs around in her pocket for her keys.

  Susana sees Beth leaving and, giving her hair a haughty flounce, says nothing to Beth. When the door to the interrogation room closes behind her, Susana laughs so hard she can barely answer any questions.

  “Just please tell me that she was on TV looking like she was auditioning for the Joker in a Batman movie,” pleads Susana. “It would so make up for the freeway nightmare that I had to sit through to get down here.”

  Again, not as much substantial information comes out of the interview as the detectives had hoped. The most notable new data has to do with the timing of Susana’s suspicion, at the party, that Beth spit into (or did something more drastic to) the meals she delivered t
o their table. The detectives also perk up when Susana explains that she switched her dessert for Blaine’s, assuming that his was safer. She conveniently leaves out the part about switching Dana’s and Blaine’s.

  “My headache was so bad that I really didn’t eat anything, anyway. After Dana knocked the martinis onto the dinner and salads, there was only one plate left. Sal was trying to get Dana to eat, but she ate a couple of cannoli and Sal ate the part of the entrée that was not swimming in spilled martini. Of course, Dana loaded her coffee up with sugar because she never gains a pound, regardless of what she eats,” Susana says.

  “I take it you don’t have that advantage?” Lucienne says. “Me, either.”

  “Unfortunately, no. And poor Sal. No wonder he had such an awful headache. There was the tussle with the tray. Beth grabbed a tray with the martinis that Sal made for Blaine, and she just sashayed her slutty little self over to Blaine to deliver them,” Susana tells them.

  She continues, “I just wanted to help Sal after Beth was being…well, Beth… so I gave him some pain pills for his headache. Dana gave him a margarita to take them with,” Susana says trying to cast herself in the Florence Nightingale role.

  Lucienne asks, “After Sal took the pills and Dana, Blaine and Mark went up to the house, you took off your shoes after the fight and ran toward the house, but nobody saw you inside. Where did you go?”

  “Everybody was screaming inside,” Susana explains. “So, I decided to leave. It was more than I could take. I headed to my car, but it was blocked in. I ran into a friend of Dana’s who had gotten his car out of the valet and I left with him.”

  Frank says, “And who was that?”

  “Gregg Buck,” answers Susana.

  “The twer … uh, director?” Lucienne asks, thinking how much Susana and the twerp director deserve each other.

  Susana confirms. “We went for drinks and he took me back to my car at around one-thirty. Gregg dropped me at my car, and we both left. I think he turned up by Charing Cross Road, but I couldn’t say for sure.”

  Lucienne and Frank thank Susana for coming in and compare notes.

  Lucienne leans back in her chair, tired and a bit discouraged. “How many is that?” she asks Frank.

  “Fifty-seven. A little less two-hundred-fifty to go.”

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Lucienne exclaims. “Who knows that many people? And even if you did know that many people, how many people would show up at your house for a party?”

  “I don’t think that many people would show up if I put on tights and a cape and flew around Metropolis,” Frank says, wryly.

  The statement strikes Lucienne as so funny that she cannot stop laughing. The more she thinks about it, the funnier it becomes, and she laughs harder and harder.

  Frank, who liked his joke at first, starts to take offense. “Hey, you don’t think I would make a good Superman?” he asks.

  She gasps to catch her breath, and reaches over to squeeze his hand, trying to avoid the unblinking stare of the surveillance camera.

  “It’s not that. You’d be a great superhero,” she says, then has to fight off another attack of the giggles. She forces herself to answer him seriously. “I’m just imagining you putting on tights for the first time.” She giggles again but swallows the bigger laughs that are trying to surface, and looks at him with mock solemnity, until he explodes into laughter and she joins him.

  “I see your point,” Frank says, wiping away a tear from his eye. “That would not be pretty.”

  They are giggling still when they poke their heads into the surveillance room to pick up Mercy on their way to lunch.

  A smile creeps onto Mercy’s face as she looks suspiciously from Frank to Lucienne and back.

  “Come on, you two,” she says. “I’m taking you to a nice lunch. You’ve worked way too hard this morning, and you’re obviously punchy.”

  Chapter 59

  While Mercy, Frank and Lucienne drive to The Smoke House Restaurant, across town, Dana and Joseph eat a late lunch at Le Coeur Bel. The rare show of worry on Joseph’s face warns his client that things are looking dire.

  “They’re coming to arrest me, aren’t they, Joseph?” asks Dana.

  “Most likely, Dana,” replies Joseph. “I’m sorry. Between what looked like Sal rejecting your advances at the party and him whispering what sounded like your name in front of the paramedics, you are the leading suspect.”

  “Isn’t all of that circumstantial?” asks Dana.

  Joseph suppresses a smile. “How many attorneys have you played on-screen, Dana?”

  “Probably enough to make a little knowledge a dangerous thing,” she replies.

  “The police will argue that you gave Sal some poisoned tranquilizers for rebuffing your advances because your ego couldn’t take the rejection,” explains Joseph.

  “That’s ridiculous! I can’t tell you…” Dana blurts out before she thinks what she is saying.

  “You can’t tell me what?” Joseph asks, urgently.

  “No — I can’t say.” Dana stares ruefully at her hands.

  “What are you talking about, Dana? If you have a way to disprove the police department’s theory, you need to tell me now. I’m your attorney, so no one can ask me to breach attorney/client privilege,” says Joseph.

  Dana starts to cry. “Oh, Joseph, I’ve been doing the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done in my life, and that’s saying a lot.”

  Joseph tries to calm her. “It’s okay, Dana, let’s start from the beginning.”

  “I’ve let jealousy and fear and insecurity run my life for too long. Do you remember that really bad film I made for Gregg Buck a few years ago?” she asks.

  “Ugh, Gregg Buck. The one that Ches calls ‘the twerp?’ I remember. Your performance was excellent when it wasn’t butchered by his directing,” says Joseph.

  “Thank you, but most people don’t separate the two. Too often, a critic can’t tell when it’s the director’s fault. I couldn’t take it. I may not always be the best person in the room, but I’m often the best actor in a film,” says Dana.

  “I couldn’t take the scrutiny and the bad reviews, so I decided to check myself into Betty Ford to get away till things died down,” she continues.

  “That doesn’t seem terribly foolish,” says Joseph. “People have a short attention span. When you came home, the film had already disappeared, I assume?” asks Joseph.

  “I’m so embarrassed,” says Dana. “Because I didn’t need to go to Betty Ford to sober up. I just needed to get away.”

  Dana looks stricken as she continues. “Joseph, I tried to tell Blaine this the day after the party, but the police interrupted me. Wesley is the only person who knows, and it can’t get out to the public, or I’ll be a laughingstock.”

  Joseph leans back and takes a deep breath. “Go on,” he tells Dana.

  Dana hangs her head. “The whole drug-and-alcohol act … I’m not really as ‘far gone’ as everyone thinks.”

  Joseph looks at her, confused. “Huh?”

  “I know this makes no sense, unless maybe you’re an actor, but I’ve been trying to protect Mark. His trust fund kicks in when he’s thirty,” says Dana.

  “I’m aware,” says Joseph.

  “It’s so very much money and so very tempting. I’ve always been afraid that Blaine married me for the money,” says Dana.

  Joseph nods and says, “I’m aware of that, as well.”

  Dana says haltingly, “Well … uh … so … sometimes, maybe I go ‘over the top’ in my hysterical tendencies … I feel so foolish. What have I done?”

  Joseph looks worried. “Dana, what have you done? Did you kill Sal?”

  Dana shrieks, “No! How could you even say that? I adored Sal!” She bursts into tears. “I’ve been trying to get Blaine to kill me!”

  Joseph is stunned. “You what?”

  “Love often doesn’t make sense,” she says. “I love Blaine so much. I just wanted to be sure he loved me, too.
I thought if I pushed him far enough, fought with him hard enough, he would either divorce me or kill me.”

  Joseph shakes his head, “Dana, that makes no sense. What are you talking about?”

  “It’s not like I really wanted him to kill me, but I wanted him to leave me or kill me before Mark turns thirty if he just wanted the money,” she tries to explain. “If he stayed with me after so much of the money was safely in Mark’s hands, I might finally believe that he loves me, no matter what.”

  Joseph stands up and paces. Finally, he says, “Dana, do you think Blaine tried to murder you and accidentally killed Sal? I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

  “No, no! Murdering me now would defeat the plan. He’d only get part of the money!” she cries, not able to understand why Joseph can’t follow the logic.

  Exasperated, Joseph sits down and says, “Don’t cry, please, Dana. I’m sorry. Maybe I’m just slow. Outline the big picture for me.”

  “Hamlet,” says Dana. “Haven’t you ever read Hamlet? I mean, it’s not the exact plot…more of a ‘based on’…like a Star Trek episode.”

  “Go on.?”

  “‘The play’s the thing,’ remember?” she says. “I needed to know Blaine’s true intentions.”

  Flabbergasted, Joseph asks, “Are you saying that you have been intentionally tormenting Blaine, hoping he will kill you?”

  Dana gives Joseph a dry smile. “Well, obviously that isn’t my first choice,” she laughs. “Mostly, I’ve been testing him to see if I can be horrible enough to get him to divorce me. I mean, would you stay with me, as much of a harpy as I can be?”

  Joseph looks for the least offensive response but cannot find one. “I, uh, no, frankly.”

  Dana takes a theatrical bow, “Why thank you, kind sir. What do you think about some of the best acting of my career?”

  “Wait, let me see if I’ve got this right…” Joseph tries to recap what Dana is saying.

  “You love Blaine so much that you’ve been trying to get him to divorce you. Or worse, to kill you. But, if he stays around and stays married to you after Mark gets a substantial cut of the money, that proves Blaine really loves you?” Joseph asks.